Wayfaring Stranger
by Beael
Summary: James Martinez has always been a man of duty. When duty wants him to do one thing and his heart wants something else, which will he choose to follow? Terminal illness, no slash
1. Wayfaring Stranger

Hello! Okay, I might be barking mad for starting this story, but I'm so very inspired and would like to write it merely because I would very much like to read it and can't find any other story with the same plot - although, that doesn't show in the first chapter, not at all. Rest assured, though, it will be different than all other stories with basically the same plot.

I hope.

Anyway, please leave a review and tell me what you think! And if you find any grammar mistakes, which you're bound to do as English isn't my first language and I tend to become sloppy when I'm excited, please tell me so I can change the mistakes and learn so that I don't make them again.

* * *

**Chapter 1, Wayfaring Stranger**

_I know dark clouds will gather me_  
_I know my way's rough and steep_  
_And the beautiful fields lie just beyond me_  
_And I know my way's rough and steep_

James Martinez was having a terrible day. It had started of badly and since then it had only gotten worse. The night before he had momentarily forgotten that he had work to do the following day and thus had forgotten to put on his alarm. When he woke up by himself at six thirty, he was already incredibly late and had no time for other breakfast than an apple and a glass of water. As he ran towards his car, putting a jacket on as he ran, he cursed whoever it was that had invented alarm-clocks, sunlight and time.

Once in his car, he suddenly remembered that he didn't have enough gas. A few weeks prior, when he had last used the car, he had lazily put that very task till "someday later" and now he was paying for it. Cursing, he drove into a gas station and irritably yelled at the woman in the car in front of him, until she angrily told him that they both had their windows open and if he said another word she would "kick his arse, be it or not that you look like a soldier, or something!" That shut him up.

When he paid his phone rang and after a moment of confusion he found it in his pocket and answered.

"Martinez," he said as he unlocked the car-door and sat down behind the wheel, steering onto the high way.

The voice on the other line was vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. "I'm agent Daniels," it said and James desperately tried to remember why he knew the voice but not the name. "I'm calling for a favor."

James wasn't completely unfamiliar with people, and especially government people like agent Daniels seemed to be, calling for favors or jobs, but something about the situation screamed _wrong_.

"Favor?" James asked, not wasting any more words. He was already late and he couldn't afford to be any later. This better be quick.

"Mhm," the other man said and James imagined him nodding eagerly on the other side. "One of the, ehum, _men_ you'll be working with today will be familiar to you, but I want you to put any grudges aside and do your best to help him." Who was this man and how did he knew more about the coming job than James himself did? "He won't be what you expect him to be, but if you just give him a chance, you'll discover that he's a great guy. Special indeed, but great."

Then, to James' great shock, the other man hung up, without further information. "Stupid agents," he grunted and checked the GPS. Ten minutes to the destination, seven if he broke the speeding limits. Just for once, he thought it might be worth it.

When he showed up, out of breath from running up the seven stairs as the escalator was broken, no one even spared him a look. He was late, the meeting had started and his bad manners would be dealt with later.

"-is of the utmost importance!" a woman said and let her fist fall to the table with a bang. She was short and skinny and if it hadn't been for the serious, grey eyes James would have thought she was no older than nineteen or perhaps twenty. As it was, it was hard to tell her age, but he assumed she had to be at least thirty.

"I know, agent Odell, but it's all up to the agent now. If he's in no state to help, then you try your best to get him to tell you were the flash drives are and then you get them. He will be taken care of, but it's not your responsibility."

The man that said this was, in opposite to the woman he spoke to, both tall and bulky with a bald head and fleshy cheeks. His voice was flat, but the order was clear – the flashdrives were more important than the agent. The woman, agent Odell, flushed but sat down again from where she had been standing. James took a seat next to her and was greeted only by the familiar man across the table.

He had black hair, cut so short it almost looked gray, and his blue eyes were serious on the square-face. At once, James knew why he had recognized the voice of agent Daniels. This was the very same man, but James didn't know him as Daniels, he knew him as Fox, the man that he had been teamed up with at the beginning of his SAS-recruitment. Fox had gotten binned at one point, and James hadn't questioned it, but now he realized that that probably wasn't what had happened.

To his utter shock, Fox winked to him, and then he turned to the man at the end of the table and spoke with his Liverpudlian accent. "Sir," he said, "I understand how the flash drives are extremely important, but you have to understand that the agent is extremely important, too – he's one of the best we've ever had."

James blinked, but otherwise didn't show how surprised he was. For a superior to not take care of their agents properly, there had to be a whole lot of things going on and if the man truly was as good as Fox, no, _agent Daniels_, said he was, then he should be worth quite a lot.

"I know, agent Daniels," the bulky man said, huffing, "but when our agent has spent the last few weeks risking his life for these flash drives, don't you think that maybe, just maybe, we ought to value that?"

Agent Daniels didn't say anything, but James could see that he wasn't very happy. How had he ended up there, along with MI6 people on a highly important mission? Then he realized. Fox hadn't been binned, or he had, but one way or another he had been recruited by MI6. Figured – he'd always been very sneaky and secretive, the perfect agent. How he had such a special relationship with the agent they were supposed to save, James didn't know, but he figured that the agent had to be the man Fox had said that he, James, knew.

"Is everyone at the clear with the operation?" agent Odell asked them and James grunted his response.

He might not have been there at time, but he knew the basics of the operation, he'd been briefed with them the day before. He was to lead his team, a group of five highly trained men, to help the agents find the flash drives. Then, he and his men were to get the kidnapped agent out of there and if needed give him first aid. It was a basic operation, nothing out of the ordinary, but something made James suspect that there was more to it than he knew.

* * *

Not long after, James, his men and the two agents stood behind a group of trees not far away from the building where the operation was to take place. His men, four incredibly fit and quiet people, were busy loading their guns, but James was already finished and instead walked up to the man he had known as Fox.

"You sneaky bastard!" he said and didn't particularly care that he insulted the man.

Fox grinned and gave James his hand. "Long time, no see, right Wolf?" Reluctantly, James took the hand and shook it. "Ben Daniels," Fox introduced himself. "Ben for you."

"Ben," James repeated. "I'm James Martinez."

He didn't add that the other man could call him James, partly because he was still a bit put for Fox's sneakiness and partly because he wasn't sure he wanted the other man to call him James. They'd only known each other for a couple of weeks and probably couldn't be considered friends, even if they could have been during different circumstances.

Before Fox had a chance to reply agent Odell stood in front of the two of them, a frown on her face. "I don't know how the two of you know each other," she said, clearly not enjoying the fact that they did, "but there's not time for small talk. We have to get moving."

They did, James and his men first and the two agents after. All of them wore Kevlar vests but James hoped they wouldn't need them. He didn't particularly like the idea of anyone getting hurt, especially as it was supposed to be an easy assignment.

The first shot rang as soon as they got through the front door and one of James' men fell to the ground, twitching. He prayed that the man had been hit where he wore the vest and that if that was the case, the man wouldn't be stupid enough to stand up. That, surely, would get them all killed. From this point, however, they all were more careful and James happily noted that the grin had been swiped of Fox's face.

"This way," agent Odell said and turned left, forcing James, Fox and the three remaining soldiers to turn around.

James thought it felt as if they jogged down the hallway forever, but surely it couldn't have been more than a few seconds, half a minute at most. Then, the sound so sudden it made him jump in surprise, a hoarse voice came from behind one of the doors. Turning, James noted that the doors weren't, as he had formerly thought, normal doors but rather thick metal ones with bars.

The voice called for them again, more anxiously this time, and to his surprise James saw Fox flinch. "Hello? Come on, open the door up! Cowards! How can you call yourselves men when you're not even brave enough to fight a _teenager_ in combat?"

Teenager? Wait..? The voice was eerily familiar, but James thought nothing of it. He and the other soldiers focused on the door, trying to get it to open, when a pale face appeared behind the bars.

"Oh," the voice said and despite himself James turned his attention away from the lock they were trying to pick and to the person inside the room, "it's you."

For a while, James couldn't respond, as he was too shocked. He knew that pale face, the intelligent, brown eyes and the though dirty unmistakably blond hair. Somewhere in the background, he heard agent Odell and Fox having a quiet but heated argument of what to do next, but he couldn't quite bring himself to listen to what was being said.

"Hi," the boy behind the bars said and suddenly the world started moving again. "Long time, no see, right Wolf?" he said, repeating Fox's words from earlier.

"Cub?" James said disbelievingly. That was it – this couldn't be happening. In one day he'd met up with two people he'd thought he'd never see again. Apparently, he was wrong.

"Pleasure," the boy said and though his grin was cheeky James could clearly see signs of exhaustion and pain in the chocolate brown eyes.

Before James had a chance to repeat, however, one of his men stood up as well and turned to Cub. "Boy," he said and didn't seem all to surprise to spot not a man but a boy behind the bars, "if you could step away, we'll blast the lock open."

Cub nodded and did as he had been told, although James thought he moved slower than he should have. He didn't mention it, hoping that he was only being cautious.

"Once he shoots, we'll have to be quick," James informed them all. "Cub, can you tell us where the flash drives are?" He suddenly realized that was why they were there, that that was their main mission. To save Cub was only a minor goal.

Inside of his cell, though, Cub nodded. "'Course," he said and if anyone thought his voice was a bit weak they didn't mention it. "They're in the office, three doors to the left."

Nodding, the two agents took off without looking back. The four soldiers locked eye with the boy in the cell, whom covered his ears. A shot ran out and for a few seconds the hallway was so full of smoke that James could barely see his hands in front of him. He coughed and when he looked back up, he could see the silhouette of a small figure where the door had been only moments earlier.

"Cub?" James said and the silhouette took one, then two and three steps forward.

"It's Alex," the boy said and coughed, too. "Alex Rider."

"Alex Rider," James repeated as he watched the silhouette of the boy become more clear as the air cleared.

Something was wrong. He'd barely had time to progress the thought before Cub, no, _Alex_, stumbled, putting out a hand to stop him from falling.

"Easy there, lad," one of James' men said and stepped forward to help the teen regain his footing. "Can you walk well 'nough to get outta here or will we 'ave to carry you?"

Alex groaned in pain as he experimentally let his own feet carry his full weight. "I think," he said through clenched teeth, "that I might just've managed to twist my ankle." Then, with such stubbornness that it would've made James smile in any other situation, the teen said "I can walk," and they were off, running and, in Alex's case, stumbling, towards the end of the hallway were a large window would be their way out.

One of the soldiers crushed the window with his gun, but then he stopped. Angrily, James grabbed him. "Come on, what are you waiting on?" It didn't take any more persuasion to get the soldier to jump the few inches down to the ground and the rest of them followed suit, Alex being the last one to go.

The teen must've landed wrong, though, because he gave out a surprised shout in pain and fell to the ground, grabbing his ankle.

"You okay, Cub?" James asked as he took in the pale face, twisted in pain, the torn clothes and the dirty skin. It was quite clear that Cub was anything but okay, but he didn't know what else to say. Instead, he took the few steps that separated him from the teen and awkwardly lifted him up, supporting his weight and noting that the teen didn't weigh as much as she should have.

At some point during their stumbling and halting back to the forest Cub must have passed out, because he no longer helped support his own weight and when they reached the truck that was their way out of there someone took Cub from him and James hoped that the medics would take good care of him as he turned back to make sure that the two agents found their way out.

Overall, James Martinez's day had been terrible, he reflected as he went in to save his former team-mate and the other agent, while trying his very best not to think about what might've caused some of the injuries he had seen on the teen. They would never meet again anyway.

Right.

Right?


	2. Hurt

Sorry it took so long for me to update. Please leave a review and tell me what you think! I submit it here to get help to improve my writing - and to entertain others - so I would be so grateful if you could help with that!

* * *

**Chapter 2, Hurt**

_I hurt myself today  
To see if I still feel  
I focus on the pain  
The only thing that's real_

_The needle tears a hole  
The old familiar sting  
Try to kill it all away  
But I remember everything_

_-Nine Inch Nails_

His head thumped angrily before he even opened his eyes. Another day. Another painful, depressing day in the cold place he was being kept. His hair, once blond and clean, was now a dark grey were it wasn't caked with blood. Aching fingers shakily found their way up his neck until he hissed with pain, having found the source of his terrible headache.

"_Tell me!"_

"_No!"_

_Thrown into a wall. Crushing pain, relieving darkness._

He couldn't remember how he had been taken back to the cell, but it hardly mattered. There he was, once again desperately wishing for a way out of this hell-hole.

The hallway outside of his small cell was light, but behind the door it was still dark, the barred window too small to let through any real light. As he finally opened his eyes, he was grateful for that – he didn't think his head could take the bright sunlight or it might explode.

Hours passed without any hope of relief. He tried to sleep, but found that something kept him awake. It couldn't be that he wasn't tired; he had never been more exhausted in his life, but he had long ago learned to trust his instincts so he settled for just sitting as far away from the door as he could, repeating French verbs over and over again to keep his mind from the torture that was to come.

It didn't matter. As he sat there, memories rushed before his eyes, interrupting his ranting and successfully stopping him from escaping the pain.

"_You think you're clever, do ya? I'll show you clever!"_

_A knife, slowly trailing down his abdomen, leaving a trickle of blood and making his eyes tear. He couldn't give in!_

His whole body ached, stung and throbbed from various wounds. "_Je suis, tu es, il es..," _he tried, but trailed of as another forceful memory got through his defenses.

"_Are you trying to run away, little boy?"_

_She was the scariest of them all. Small and seemingly fragile, but oh-so-skilled with the knife and oh-so-emotionless. _

"_Don't try to run – you won't succeed."_

_Pain._

He was shaking now, trying to take control of his breathing but failing. He shouldn't be there to begin with, stuck in another cell by another group of madmen trying to take advantage of him. They were not so different than MI6, whom, although indirectly, were the reason he's stuck here to begin with. Forcing him into another mission, another, another, until he was nothing but a shell and darkness.

Steps somewhere in the hallway interrupted him and he rose, slowly, painfully as he tried to regain some of his bravery.

"Hello? Come on, open the door up!" He couldn't yet see who was coming, but the steps quickly came closer and so he kept screaming, trying hard to keep his voice from breaking. They stopped outside of his door and he started to make his way towards the door, carefully keeping his fear and pain in. One hand trailed along the wall, keeping him upright. "Cowards! How can you call yourselves men when you're not even brave enough to fight a _teenager_ in combat?"

As he reached the door, his hurt ankle throbbing angrily, he realized that the people outside weren't whom he thought they'd be. Instead of staring into the evil faces of his captors, he saw someone he found eerily familiar.

Hispanic features, dark and short hair, short but definitely well-toned. He would know that man anywhere, but never before had he thought he would feel such _relief _upon seeing him. There had been a time when his mere codename had the boy shivering, but now, after everything, the soldier was perhaps the best thing the teen could have imagined. Was he going to be saved? Judging by the other soldiers working frantically on the lock and the two agents in the background, one vaguely familiar, it actually seemed that way.

Wolf. Pain-in-the-ass-turned-savior? Alex Rider really hoped so. Clearing his throat he spoke up for the first time since last night – _don't think about it!_

"Oh," he said, not quite in control of himself just yet. "It's you."

What was Wolf doing there, of all people? Of course, he probably shouldn't be as surprised as he was, seeing as the other man had been there in the France Alps as well and therefore was one of the few to actually know about the teenage spy.

"Hi," Alex said and let out all his relief and pain in that single world. Then he hid behind a cheeky grin, desperately trying to maintain calm and not let any of them see exactly how broken he was. "Long time, no see, right Wolf?"

Wit and sarcasm was Alex's way of dealing with the pain and pressure that came from being one of the youngest spies ever. He had gone through hell and back again and while most people, no matter what age, would break, he was unique in that sense. Having been brought up for this exact purpose, son of one of the best of his kind maybe ever, Alex wasn't quite like everybody else. He knew that breaking down would do know good, not while he was about to be saved, so he settled for annoying his saviors as much as he could to keep them from noticing how shaken he was.

"Cub?"

The disbelief was so thick that Alex could almost taste it and it took everything he had not to start laughing at how absurd the situation was. Wolf, of all people, was the one that was going to save him from this place. Wolf, his once-bully and perhaps-comrade-and-team-captain.

"Pleasure," Alex managed, grin still plastered unnaturally on his features. He wished they'd be out of there already, but he would have to fight through the pain just for a little longer. Then, he told himself; then he could rest.

Wolf looked as he was about to say something when one of the other soldiers stood up to look Alex squarely in the eyes.

"Boy," he said and despite the severe situation Alex flinched. Not a good word. "If you could step away, we'll blast the lock open."

Doing what the man had said, backing away from the door as quickly as he could in order for them to be able to shoot the lock, memories played in front of his eyes and he had to bite back a whimper.

"_Boy, are you ready for the pain?" she asked, thin fingers almost tenderly stroking his cheek before the knife found its target and Alex was falling to the ground, falling, falling, fallen…_

"Cub, can you tell us where the flash drives are?"

Wolf's voice brought Alex back to reality and he forced himself to focus for a little longer.

"'course, they're in the office, three doors to the left."

Two doors to the left, he knew but didn't say, was a room that he dreaded more than anything else. In there, he had battled some of his worst nightmares.

A soldier shot the lock, and the door opened. The smoke made the corridor darker than usual, almost impossible to see through, but somehow he made his way forward, to the door. He had to support himself heavily on the walls but he was doing it and he was going to get out if it was the last thing he ever did.

"Cub?"

It was Wolf and he sounded worried, which confused Alex. Did he really look that bad? Taking his own appearance and torn clothes in, he realized that he probably did.

"It's Alex," he told the man, not sure why he did it but feeling as if it was important. He coughed, the smoke itching his lungs. "Alex Rider."

Wolf nodded and the worry in his eyes made Alex feel a little warm. He wasn't used to people caring, even those on his own side. Usually he was just a way to get to the point, a weapon, and the last resort. Not a boy, at the very least. Just sometimes, it was nice to be able to be that boy and be taken care of.

Suddenly, he fell, and just barely put out a hand to catch himself but instead found he didn't need to – one of the soldiers had him. Nice to be taken care of. As he tried to stand up by himself, though, his ankle seemed to be on fire. He didn't remember it hurting this bad, then again, he hadn't been forced to walk on it since it was hurt.

"I think," he forced out, biting back the agonizing pain, "that I might just've managed to twist my ankle."

He found it more difficult than it should have been to get the words out, his tongue not entirely cooperating with him. This he choose to be quiet about, though, not wanting to worry the soldiers and definitely _not, _as one of them had suggested, wanting to be carried out. Therefore he stubbornly put his foot down.

"I can walk."

Exactly how he managed to get through the hallway Alex would never know, only that he must've because now he was jumping out of the window at the end of the corridor, feeling the sun on his face for the first time in what felt like forever.

The landing was terrible. He could practically _hear _his bone crack and let out a yelp in pain, bent down to grab his hurt ankle.

"Cub?" Wolf said from somewhere, Alex wasn't quite sure, his vision was getting blurry and he was on fire, for heaven's sake, couldn't the man tell? "Are you okay?"

No! Alex wanted to yell. He was not okay, he was as far from okay as he had ever been, but somehow the words wouldn't form and he found himself being supported by Wolf, leaning on the soldier more heavily than he would have wanted to.

He didn't even feel reality slip away to give room for blessed nothingness.

* * *

_Through the small window he could see the rain falling heavily. Drip-drop-drap._

_A face in front of him, the face of a young girl, a braid on each side of her head. She smiled viciously before she attacked, and Alex screamed as she transformed into Herod Sayle, followed by Julia Rothman, Yassen Gregorovich, Winston Yu, Jack…_

"NO!"

He sat up, only to find he was stuck in the hospital bed by an IV stuck to his arm. Breathing erratic and face pale and sweaty he stared into the opposite wall, images replaying in his head, one more terrible than the other. He was awake, yet he was not. It was a warm, if reluctant, hand on his shoulder that had the images finally shatter and leave him alone.

He found himself pulled into a hug, and gratefully fell into it, to tired and hurt to do anything else. Sobs racked his body and it was many minutes before he was calm enough to wrestle out of the safe arms holding him.

"Ben?"

It was Ben, perhaps the only person Alex could still trust. He had been there for him in another way than the other agents had, he had been there when he was rescued and he had, although that was only a rumor, stood up for him against Jones and Blunt.

"Hey," said the young man and stroke away tears Alex hadn't been aware he had shed. "Easy."


	3. To have a home

**Chapter 3, To have a home**

_So many nights I'd pray  
for a better life, a better day  
but I never thought that it'd come true  
now that it's here, I don't know what to do  
and I'm trying not to cry_

_-Darren Criss_

At the last morning of his hospital stay Alex awoke with a horrible feeling of doom in the pit of his stomach. It was a week after him being rescued by Wolf and the other soldiers and though he was now almost fully healed physically he would still wake up screaming and shivering in the middle of the night. The first time that happened, Ben had been there, but he had left and Alex hadn't seen him since that night.

However, the main reason for his panicking had nothing to do with that. He had no idea what was going to happen to him once he was released from the hospital. Since Jack's death he had lived with the Pleasures for a few weeks, but he had quickly realized that it couldn't work. Even though he love Sabina and got along well with her parents he could never go back to being a normal school boy. Jack's death hadn't freed him from his position as a teenage spy; it had made him realize that no matter what happened he would never be able to forget.

The months following his return to England he had lived on his own in a small apartment, as the house in Chelsea had been sold when he moved to California, but ms. Jones had informed him that they had sold the apartment when he had been MIA for a month and assumed dead. Besides, it wouldn't be safe for him to live on his own; during his hospital stay he had received two death threats from different terrorist organizations.

"I thought you'd be awake."

The voice came from the doorway and Alex looked up to see his doctor, a middle-aged man with grey hair and kind, warm eyes. Doctor Graham had been the one to treat him last time he was at the hospital as well and Alex liked his friendly matter. He was the only person left in the world whom still treated the fifteen-year-old as a teenager and not either an adult or a dangerous person.

"Morning", Alex greeted the man, voice still slightly raspy but much better than it had been when he first came to the hospital.

"Ever the early riser, right Alex?" the man said with his east London accent. He sat down at the end of the bed and smiled kindly at his patient. "Of course, today is an important day; you're finally getting out of this dull place! I tell you, I look forward to the day I can do that! All white and then it's all the sick people…"

The teenager grinned. "Yeah, I imagine it must be tiring. The same sight day after day tends to be boring." When it wasn't utterly terrifying, that was.

_Sixty-eight, sixty-nine, seventy grey bricks. Eight bricks that had once been grey but that were now stained with a dark brown colour that made him sick to the stomach. Three bricks completely black with dust._

_Sixty-eight, sixty-nine, seventy days in this hell-hole. Eight of those days almost out if it in pain, staining the bricks himself. Never a sight of anything but grey, black and red. Three days fighting back, only to be kicked back down._

Alex gasped and found that the doctor's face was right next to his own, warm blue eyes comforting the terrified brown. "Don't forget to breathe."

Slowly the boy regained control over his breathing and the doctor leaned back again, a wrinkle of worry evident on his forehead. "Sorry for that", Alex mumbled, embarrassed that the doctor had seen it.

"Never mind, my dear boy", doctor Graham said, "however, I'm quite worried about you."

That gave Alex a bad taste in the mouth. If it was one thing he hated more than anything, it was when people pitied him. He'd been through a lot of bad stuff in his life, no doubt about it, but he had always managed and was not planning on giving up anytime soon. Pity made him feel as if he should feel sad about it, and whenever he thought about everything he just felt like breaking down and crying. Alex prided himself in never doing that, a Rider didn't break down and most certainly didn't cry.

"You shouldn't be", Alex said, looking the man square in the eyes, "I'm doing fine."

"Physically, maybe, but you've been through some shit-" that was one way to put it, he supposed, but to hear a doctor say it made Alex snort "-and it's bound to leave its marks on you. To think otherwise would be foolish."

"I'm tougher than I look!" The second he said it, he felt ashamed, he sounded like a six-year-old, not a teenager. Doctor Graham, though, didn't laugh.

"I have no doubt whatsoever that you are, but it would be traumatizing to anyone, no matter how old they are. I've seen people fall apart from less."

Quietly, Alex wasn't entirely sure that he wasn't falling apart. The flashbacks that hit him at any time, the nightmares, and the way he would shy away from touch… all signs that he was, slowly but surely, falling apart.

"Maybe", he said softly. "I'll manage, though, I know I will."

He didn't add _I've done it before_. Judging from the look of sympathy the doctor gave him, he didn't need to.

"I'm scheduling sessions with a psychologist for you, Alex." Alex's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything. He had a feeling that he might need that, even though he would never admit it out loud. "Once a week to start with, but we might change that later on. Also, I've found you someone to live with."

Alex choked on his breath. "Sorry?"

"Mr. Daniels helped me, said he had a friend that'd be willing to help. I've called him and it seems you can live with him, at least until everything's settled down a bit."

The teenager blinked confusedly, not fully able to take it in. He was going to live with some stranger?

"According to Mr. Daniels, you already know him. James Martinez's his name, a soldier."

"I have no idea who that is", Alex stated, befuddled.

"Yes, he did say you might not know him by that name. It was some animal name, I think." The doctor scratched his chin, thinking furiously but Alex thought he might already know.

"Wolf?"

The doctor lit up. "Yes, that was it! Anyhow, he's waiting outside, so if you'd like to meet him..?"

For the first time since Alex had known him the man genuinely seemed unsure of his actions. Most of the time doctor Graham was a calm but confident man, always certain of what he did and why he did it. Now he looked as if he doubted whether if it had been right or not.

Not that Alex blamed him. Of all people he was going to live with _Wolf_? Apart from the incident on Point Blanc and when he was rescued a week ago the man had been an absolute arse and Alex wasn't very keen to meet him again, just as he was sure the man wouldn't be very happy to have to live with _Double-oh-Nothing_.

* * *

Outside of the room, James was nervously picking at the hem of his shirt. Two days after the rescue mission he had received a call from Fox whom had, to put it frankly, begged him to take care of Cub. Normally, James would've said no immediately. He didn't do kids. He didn't help ex-friends. He definitely didn't deal with MI6 agents, yet, somehow, he found that he couldn't ignore the cry for help.

Perhaps it was because Cub had reminded him so very much of his own sister. Carla was his half-sister, almost ten years younger than James himself. As a child she had been very lively and witty, bordering on rude but never going too far. After particularly rough days she could always cheer him up and she had been part of the reason that he joined the army.

When he had come home from Brecon Beacons, on leave for the first time in months, she had been broken. Sixteen years old and her eyes black with pain and grief. During his time away she had gotten a boyfriend, a seemingly friendly guy named Brandon.

Brandon, it turned out, wasn't the slightest bit friendly. He was one of those good-looking popular guys that would do anything to keep his reputation. He had treated Carla so badly that she had been reduced from her happy, confident self to a self-conscious mess, constantly sporting new bruises that she refused to tell him how she'd gotten.

Cub had looked the same. Broken down, brown eyes almost turned black. James was ashamed to remember how he had treated Cub during the boy's fortnight at Brecons Beacons. The teenager had given up everything for his country and how had James paid his respects? By making every part of his training as difficult as possible. Then the fourteen-year-old had been sent out to risk his life over and over again.

Of course, James _had_ helped Cub later on. Both with the crazy lady at Point Blanc and then barely a week ago when he saved him from that horrifying cell. That was, James was reminded by Fox during their conversation, the reason he had joined the army to begin with; to help people.

"_James Martinez speaking."_

"_It's Fox."_

"_What'ya want?"_

"_It's Cub."_

"_What about him?"_

"_Can he come live with you?"_

"_Can he… what?"_

"_Listen, Wolf, the kid's really in it deep and I think… I think he's starting to break, he can't continue like this!"_

"_So you want him to come live with _me_?"_

"_Essentially… yes. He trusts me, Wolf, but I can't take care of him. He needs out of MI6 and you're the only one I can think of!"_

"_Bu-"_

"_Please?"_

"…_okay."_

Looking through the window he had to admit that Cub looked broken. Despite his bruises beginning to fade he still had dark shadows under his eyes and was far too skinny for a boy his age. His movements were jerky and painful and though he tried to hide it James could tell that he shied away from the doctor's touched.

Doctor Graham was a great man, in James's opinion. He had once been a soldier and fought for his country but had then settled down on saving lives instead of taking them. Snake, one of the men from what used to be K-Unit, had also decided to leave the SAS in favor for a medical education. Last James heard from him he had been living in Cambridge, studying but enjoying himself greatly.

The door was opened and out came the doctor, a grim smile on his face. "Mr. Martinez, you can see him now."

So James opened the door again and walked into the room.

"Hello, Cub."

* * *

What will happen next? Will they get along? Why can't Fox take care of Alex?

See you next time!


	4. Lego House

**Chapter 4, Lego House**

_I__'m gonna pick up the pieces  
__And build a lego house  
__If things go wrong we can knock it down_

_-Ed Sheeran_

Alex's heart thumped loudly as the man he knew as Wolf entered the room. While the man had once saved his life, something Alex would never forget, he had also bullied him mercilessly that terrifying fortnight at Brecons Beacons. Unintentionally, Alex pushed back as far as he could against the pillows as the man approached, taking one and then another awkward step towards the bed.

The silence seemed to last for eternity, almost touchable and for a while Alex wondered why Wolf even bothered. He could not possibly want to be there at that very moment, his very being seemed to long towards the door and Alex almost expected him to turn around and leave. How would the two of them ever manage to live together? It seemed impossible, the mere though laughable.

"How're you?" the older man asked, if somewhat awkwardly, but the effort was very much appreciated never the less.

"So and so", Alex answered truthfully.

It was not the pain, not anymore. He had lived through worse, however cliché that sounded. Neither was it that he minded living with Wolf – even if it was embarrassing to admit, even to himself, he was glad that he would have somewhere to go. No, it was not about that. It was that he felt as if he had spent eternity and hell and now suddenly he was back on Earth and expected to know how to handle it. He had no clue of how he was supposed to act anymore, it was as if everything that had once been normal and casual was now strange an alien.

"Okay…" Wolf said apprehensively. "I s'pose you've heard that you're gonna live with me?"

Alex nodded – how could he have missed that? "Doctor Graham told me", he explained.

"Alright", Wolf grunted and sat down on the chair positioned next to Alex's bed. "well, are you wondering anything?"

Was he? He supposed he was, but there was no question he was longing to ask the man, rather things he was curious to find out. How would he be expected to act? Would he go to school? What was he doing when Wolf was off on assignments? All things he was curious about but did not really know how to ask.

"No", he therefore said and silence fell over the white hospital room.

Half an hour or so later, Doctor Graham came through the door once more, smiling brightly at the two people in the room.

"It seems you're cleared, Alex, so you're free to leave. I really hope it will be quite some time before I see you again, I'm sure you'll make sure of that, Mr. Martinez?"

"James", Wolf muttered uneasily. "Of course I will", he then added after seeing the elderly man's demanding look.

And they were off. Apparently Wolf either didn't have a license or didn't have a car, for they took a taxi cab to his apartment. Alex sat by the window, watching the city as it passed by. It was dark outside, the snowflakes floated down from the sky, illuminated by the city lights. It was not yet December and normally it would be warm enough that the snow melted as soon as they hit a ground, yet this evening a small layer had managed to remain on the concrete pavement, so far untouched by the many Englishmen waling the cold streets.

The ride took a little less than half an hour, then the small black car pulled up at the left side of the street to let them out. Alex made a move to grab his small bag, but Wolf took it before he had a chance to do so. The house in front of which they had stopped was a light brown and three floors tall. There was an elevator, an old one, but a sign warned residents that it was broken and that unfortunately, they would have to use to stair.

Alex was shocked to find that he was breathing harder than usual by the time he reached the top of the staircase. Suddenly he was very grateful that Wolf had decided to take the bag, as he was uncertain he would really have managed to get it up.

"Hang on, I'm just gonna get the key", Wolf muttered, but did so quietly enough that he probably was only talking to himself. The key was old and a little rusty at the edges and the door creaked ominously as they entered the small apartment.

As Wolf turned on the lights, Alex felt his lips tug upward. The place was everything he had not expected it to be – light, cozy and warm. It was not particularly large, but for someone whom had spent so much time trying to make sure that nothing was hiding in the shadows, he thought it would be nice to not have to worry about it, as there was no room for such people here.

He turned around and found that Wolf was staring at him warily.

"It's nice", he said and so the matter was solved.

Though he did not say so explicitly, Alex could tell that Wolf was warming up to him. It was in the way he moved, as If he was completely at home, and in how he would smile lightly whenever Alex something that was even the slightest bit close to funny. It was as if he had lost the hostile mask in favor of a kinder, warmer person, and the prospect of spending time here was not a frightening anymore.

They had toast for dinner, seated in the small coach and watching television – some game host show that neither had a particular interest in but that both found was a safe show to spend the evening watching.

"I joined the army when I was twenty one", Wolf was then saying and though he wanted to, Alex didn't look up but continued to stare at the screen while listening carefully to the other man's every word. "My mom really wanted me to go to university, so I tried, but I was never able to see the point in it. It's not that I'm not smart, I just couldn't really stand to sit there and listen to some professor ramble about politics and war when I knew that the best way to learn about it would be to _experience _it."

Now Alex did look up from the screen, cocked an eyebrow as he studied the man. He had never thought that Wolf would say anything even remotely close to that smart and it made him see the man in a new light. It was easy sometimes – too easy – to forget that others had pasts too, that they had a history and a reason for doing everything they did. He mostly remembered when it came to the bad guys, but his comrades were usually forgotten, for he had never thought it important enough to put his mind and energy in.

"So I dropped out of university after half a year and decided to join the army instead. Spent about two years there before an officer thought I ought to try to get into the SAS and, well, I did." Alex smiled weakly. "And I got to Brecons and it was cold, and miserable but I was so _proud_ because that was all I ever wished to do with my life and at that time I would do anything to manage the three weeks of endurance." Alex could suddenly see where this was going and he was starting to feel quite awkward, but Wolf wasn't finished. "I was even made the leader of the group, can you imagine that? And then you come along, and you're a little brat, and we're forced to put up with you following us everywhere?"

The teenager knew that he should protest, but Wolf was not saying any of this in the mean way he had used to speak to Alex back then, and so the blonde sat quiet and waited for the rest.

"But do you know what put me of more than anything else?" Silence. "It was that no matter what we did, you almost kept up with us. Not entirely, but almost – and that made me think, that despite how we treated you, there was a reason that you were there. I was so shocked at the thought that I ignored it and decided that you were some rich man's brat and that you were there to be taught a lesson."

"I wasn't", he breathed out.

"I know that, now", Wolf admitted, almost ashamedly, "but I didn't then. And by some chance we all managed endurance training and then we were split into knew groups and had to do jungle training and from what I heard both Snake and Fox were binned." He stopped for a moment, as if considering something. "I suppose that was when Fox joined MI6, though. Makes since – he was way too good to be binned. Eagle and I ended up in the same group for TQ. He was binned on the last day."

Wolf didn't go into any more detail about that, but he didn't need too. Alex had heard about TQ – tactical questioning. It was the final stage of the SAS selection and was like what he had experienced with the green coats, only a hundred times worst. SAS needed the best of the best and they needed to be sure that their soldiers would not give up anything but the big 4 – name, rank, serial number and date of birth. It was of course very important to know that soldiers would not give any information of worth up whatsoever, but he still felt a bit sick as he considered that the HQ would put their own people through such things.

"I started back then, too", Alex said, not sure if he wanted Wolf to know but at the same time wanting to give the man something in exchange for his trust. "The same day as I joined you, actually. I was a special case, I guess.

"You know what bothers me the most, though? It's not that you were arses, because there's a lot of people who acts like that. It's that at that point I was so certain that no one cared about what happened to me – and you proved it."

Wolf stared at him in undisguised horror. "We do care…" he whispered.

"Maybe", Alex agreed with a minute nod, "but how was I supposed to know? I was terrified and you were even supposed to be on my side, yet you didn't seem to care about what happened to me. How could I know the reasons behind it? You never even asked…"

He knew that it was a lot to ask from a man like Wolf, but Alex had spent a lot of time thinking this over and he now knew exactly why it had hurt so much that the four military men didn't seem to care – it was because they were meant to be on his side and yet they acted as if they weren't.

"I'm not angry anymore", Alex added after an eternity of silence. "I haven't been for quite a long time, but that was how I felt back then. I get what you mean though – I would've been angry too, if someone got something for no reason whatsoever that I had to work really hard to get."

"Why did you even join?" Wolf pressed.

"Because my uncle died", Alex said bitterly, "and they really needed someone to take his place."

"Oh, goodness." Wolf whispered anxiously.

"It's not like I wasn't prepared, though", Alex admitted. "I've prepared for this my whole life, I think. I mean, how many fourteen year olds speak four languages more or less fluently?"

The look on Wolf's face was priceless, no doubt about it. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad, to live there.

* * *

What did you think? Will Alex and Wolf continue to get along? What types of scenes do you want to see in the future? Please review and let me know!

(The information about SAS is found at Eliteukforces dot com under SAS and Selection. It's an interesting read!)


	5. The Wrong Direction

**Chapter 5, The Wrong Direction**

'_Cause I love to feel loved but I can't stand the rejection  
I hide behind my jokes as a form of protection  
I thought I was close but under further inspection  
It seems I've been running in the wrong direction_

_- Passenger_

In hindsight, Wolf realized that he should probably have known that Cub – Alex? – was more trouble than he was worth. Sure, they had gotten along fine that very first night and he had even felt that he might come to like that brat, imagine that! However, the very next night, he was certain that he would never be able to feel anything but annoyance about the teenager. He was infuriatingly irritating and seemingly completely unaware of this, which bugged the soldier off even more.

It had started the moment he woke up. Wolf had never been a morning person and to add to that he was a bit of a light sleeper and so when he woke up at six in the morning he was ready to kill whoever had woken him. It wasn't that he necessarily hadn't gotten enough sleep, but he firmly believed that any time before noon was too early to be doing anything important and so he promptly decided that he would ignore the sound and hope that it went away.

Unfortunately the tapping on his door increased until it finally ceased, leaving him relieved for a millisecond before the door was busted open to show his young ward.

"What?" he groaned and hid his face in the pillow, ignoring the voice in his head that told him to act his age.

"It's Monday?" the boy said, or asked, and Wolf had no clue what he was supposed to do with that information. "And, ehum, I thought that maybe I should get back to school?"

Okay, now Wolf sat up in his bed to stare at the boy. "Are you flippin' kidding me?"

The blonde awkwardly pulled a hand through his already messy hair. "No?"

"You just came back from the hospital! You've been locked in a cell and tortured and you want to get back to school?"

Perhaps that wasn't the smartest thing to say and Wolf cursed himself as something dark passed the teenager's eyes. Then, before he good wonder about it, it was gone and the boy smiled at him, if weakly.

"I like school?" he tried and though Wolf felt like there was more to it he couldn't really come up with a good reason for the kid to stay home from school. Yes, he might be a bit hurt but he could most likely manage to sit in school, as long as he didn't participate in PE.

"Fine," he agreed, if a bit reluctantly. "Go get ready, I'll be out in a sec."

Alex didn't need any prompting and immediately left the room. A few minutes later Wolf could hear him going about in the kitchen, most likely preparing breakfast for the two of them. The man put on a tee and his favourite pair of jeans and soon joined the fifteen-year-old in the kitchen. Breakfast was a quiet affair and Wolf found out that although Alex's cooking wasn't terrible it certainly left a lot of room for wishing. Honestly, who didn't put any salt in their scrambled eggs?

"Where's your school?" he asked the kid as he finished his – by now almost cold – cup of coffee.

"Brookland, in Chelsea."

Shit. "That's what, half an hour from here? How're you even planning on getting there?"

"The underground?"

In the end, Wolf ended up driving the kid to school and although he would've rather done something productive, like sleeping, he thought that it would at least give him a chance to get to know the strange kid. Naturally, he was proven wrong. Cub didn't say a word the whole way to his school, save from telling his guardian that he could take the underground home, so Wolf needn't worry about that.

"Bleeding kid," he grunted as he turned the car to get back home. He had been given the first two weeks with Alex off to get used to his new role as a guardian, but now he wished that he had refused. He had assumed that he would at least have the child for company but now he found that he was going to be left all on his own in the flat while the kid was in school. Even if he took time to cook properly – something that he never normally did – and went to the gym – to keep his fitness up, of course – and keep his home clean, there would still be plenty of time left for him to be bored.

Because of this, he saw no need to hurry up on his way home and as the breakfast hadn't exactly been overly good, he decided to stop at a café and have a cup of coffee and a sandwich. Figures, with his bad luck, that he would happen to be run into by somebody that he knew.

"Well, if it isn't Wolf!" a familiar voice cried out and Wolf momentarily wondered if he would have time to run the other direction. Of course, he couldn't and soon he found himself face to face with the fair haired Scot he had once spent three tormenting weeks with.

"Snake," he not as much greeted as acknowledged the other man. Unfortunately the soldier didn't seem to realize that his once team mate preferred to be left alone but took this as a cue to sit down in the chair next to Wolf.

"It's been a long time since I last saw you!"

"Perhaps," Wolf grumpily agreed.

"I see you havenae changed a wee bit, have ya"?

And then Wolf couldn't help but snort. He knew that he tended to be a bit blunt and yes, sometimes rude, but it was a characteristic that he didn't feel was particularly bothersome. If people were annoying, then they might as well get to know that, right? However, he knew that while Snake knew this part of him very well, he had also seen the soft person that Wolf could sometimes be, as well as knowing most of his weaknesses and strengths. They had, after all, spent three weeks doing their very best to make sure that they managed to get on to the next step and in order to do that they had to help each other as much as possible.

"I guess not," he half-grinned. "What've you been up to?"

"Well, I s'pose you heard the SAS binned me, aye? Well, me new team wasn't nearly as good as ole K, and so almost all of us were binned during the first few days of jungle training. I went back to the usual army, but soon realized that I'd rather continue with meds – it was me passion to begin with! I'm working at one of the local hospitals now, studying to become a surgeon and all. Thought I'd give it a shoot and maybe I could go back and be part of the med part of the army. I miss it, you know?"

Snake had always been more talkative than Wolf and overall a much friendlier and more likeable person. He almost always did his best to make others feel comfortable, even though he sometimes failed spectacularly, as had been the case with Cub. Up until this day, Wolf still wasn't sure if the other three had resented the boy for the same reason as he had or if they had simply stayed away from him as their leader didn't seem to like him. He guessed it probably didn't matter but thought that at least Fox had actually liked the boy. With Eagle, it was hard to tell, as the man had been very tired during their time together at training and so was very hard to get to know.

"What about you, what've you been up to?"

The questioned was directed to Wolf, whom shrugged. "Well, I got past training so I'm an official SAS now. Came back from my last operation a few days ago."

He didn't mention Cub, as he felt like it was much too personal and besides, it wasn't really his story to tell. He figured that the boy wouldn't want more people knowing about his unfortunate life than possible, as he seemed to be an even more private person than Wolf was.

"Congrats," Snake grinned and Wolf was happily surprised to see that the other man seemed genuinely pleased on his behalf. "I always thought you'd manage – you were the best in our group, no doubts! I heard Fox was binned 'bout the same time as I was?"

"Yeah."

"And Eagle, what about him?"

Wolf told him what he knew about the fourth member of their group, but didn't say anything about Fox's current occupation. Again, it really wasn't his story to tell, especially not as it probably required a way higher clearance than Snake would ever dream to have. He thought that he had heard somewhere that those working for MI6 were only allowed to tell one person in their surroundings and he was fairly certain that Fox wouldn't choose Snake as his.

They stayed at the cozy café for a while, both consuming more coffee than they cared to admit. Although he had grown up in the UK and had a British mother, Wolf had always much preferred coffee to tea. About lunchtime, Wolf grew aware that he probably should at least get something productive done before the kid came home from home so he started to excuse himself.

"Andrew, by the way," Snake added and shook Wolf's hand with a grin.

"James."

"Here's my number, in case you ever wanna get a drink or something, you know, for ole times' sake. Would be nice to catch up with the other blokes as well, but I haven't heard from any of them since training. You'll stay in touch?"

Wolf nodded – he didn't dare do anything else, the way that Snake glared at him. He supposed it _would _be nice to have a friend whom actually knew at least a little bit about his life but wasn't directly involved in it. He much preferred not to get too well acquainted with his fellow soldiers, as he knew that many of them wouldn't live through the next year and preferred to lose strangers, if comrades, to losing friends.

The way home was short and by five o'clock he had managed to clean the flat – something he hadn't done in weeks – prepare dinner, read the paper, finish the crossword, take a run, shower for a good half hour and watch the second half of some silly American movie about some High School students. By then, he realized that his ward probably should have been home and took up his phone to call and check on him, only the find out that he didn't have Alex's number. Bugger.

Of course, he wasn't really worried, why should he be? It wasn't like the kid had a history of messing things up, or being in danger, or attracting trouble… _Bugger!_ He reasoned that he probably was just a tad bit concern because he knew that MI6 would skin him alive if their favourite secret teenage spy was harmed while staying at his place.

When he heard the key in the lock at half past six, he had almost picked up his phone to call the police and angrily met his ward in the entre. "What the heck do you think you're up to?" he prompted and regretted to taking the kid in at all. "Your school must've ended hours ago! Are you out of your mind? What if something had happened to you – you could've been kidnapped again, or robbed or anything! We're in _London_, not exactly the safest town around, right?"

Since he came in, the boy had been staring at his shoes, leaving Wolf to yell at his blonde hair, but now he reluctantly looked up and warily met his guardian's eyes. The man closed his mouth and stared at the boy. He looked precisely as bad as he had a few days ago, when he first woke up in the hospital bed, eyes dark and secretive. Wolf was furious to note that he spotted a black eye and a split lip as well. Had it not been for his dead look he would have assumed that the boy had been in a fight but something told him that could not have been the case now.

"What the heck's happened to you?" he hissed, but the kid ignored him, pushed him away and walked into the kitchen. Wait – was he limping? "Cub!" No reaction. "Alex, look at me when I'm talking to you!"

He finally turned around, a smile on his lips that looked more painful than genuine. "What do you think happened? I'm not exactly the most well-liked person in my school – go figure out!"

He then stomped of to his room and slammed the door angrily behind him, leaving Wolf behind to try and figure out exactly what he meant. An unpleasant suspicion was growing inside of him but he shook it away. Sure, he thought the kid was a bit odd but wasn't all teenagers? He probably had fought with someone, but didn't dare tell Wolf in case he would get told off or punished for it. That brat.

The main reason that Wolf was sure he could never get used to living with the annoying kid, however, didn't show up until hours later, when he had just gotten to bed and was trying to fall asleep. He had just managed to when a shrill shriek awakened him. He sat up abruptly, frantically looking around for the threat – only to find that there wasn't one. He was starting to think that it had only been a dream when he heard it again and this time he realized that it didn't come from his own room but from the next.

Cub! Wolf would never forgive himself if the kid was hurt under his watch! As soon as he entered his wards room, he confusedly looked around and saw that the only person in the room was Alex. Then where had the shout came from – there it was again! It was the bleeding kid!

Figures that out of all teenage spies, he would get stuck with the one with loud nightmares.

* * *

Finally, an update! Please send my a review to tell me what you think! Is Wolf realistic? Did I completely fail with Snake's accent (I know I did!)? Any mistakes you noticed? Let me know!


End file.
